Still Waters
by Miran Anders
Summary: COMPLETE! Professor X calls in a counselor to help with Logan's memory problems. Rated for innuendo, difficult situations.
1. Ariel

The Professor sat staring out the window, the icy blue of his eyes contrasting with the clouded turquoise of the summer sky. He gazed intently into the distance, breathing quietly as he concentrated. Suddenly distracted, a faint smile crossed his lips as he heard the door close softly behind him. His voice took on a Shakespearean luster when he spoke the lines from the _Tempest_.

"I am ready now. Approach, my Ariel, come."

"Grave sir, hail! I come to answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task Ariel and all –_her_- quality."

The Professor's smile grew as he turned to the woman standing there. "Ariel. Thank you for coming so quickly."

"My pleasure, as always, Professor." She closed the distance between them and leaned over to kiss his cheek. He looked at her with feigned dismay.

"And how long do you suppose it will take for you to get over that?"

She blinked at him, all innocence. "Get over what?"

"You know as well as I. Perhaps I should begin calling you 'Doctor'. You do have the qualifications."

The smile in her eyes was warm. "You know I think of it as a sign of respect, Prof-" she stopped herself with a grin and went on. "Charles." She shook her head and sat down near him. "It's more than a degree when I say it to you." The green of her eyes seemed to deepen as she looked at him, and he nodded.

_So, my friend._ _What brings me here?_

_ A strange case. I'm concerned. Let me show you. _

Both their eyes closed as Xavier led her through his thoughts. The new mutant's arrival at the School, his interaction with the girl Rogue, his rebellious but loyal joining of the team. The battles he fought, the risks he took. The bits of past that he knew but could not yet take ownership of.

Logan?

_ Yes. _

_ Interesting name… Wolverine. _

_ Don't mistake me, Ariel. He's not the most stable man I've ever met. Yet there's much to him. _She hugged him as they stood together in his mind's eye.

_ I'll do my best, Charles. Clearly he's won your trust. That tells me a great_ deal.

Their eyes opened. "When can I meet him?" The Professor looked off toward the door.

"If I'm not mistaken –"

"And we know you rarely are –"

"He should be here in-" The door burst open. A man stood framed by a rectangle of light, faint sounds of retreating laughter spilling from down the hall.

"Damn it, you've got to do something about that kid."

"I've got to do something? Actually, Logan, I believe _you_ were the one who wanted to teach the driving skills class."

"It's not the class! It's that he thinks it's funny if he freezes my last cigar soggy, when he knows I'm trying…" Logan's voice trailed off as he registered the stranger sitting at the Professor's side. "Oh. I didn't mean to–"

"Actually, I was hoping you'd stop by. This is Ariel Waters, PhD. Ariel, this is Logan, the Wolverine of our elite team."

Logan did a double take at the phrasing before extending his hand to the woman, who stood and took it with a firm grasp. He admired the deep green of her eyes, the loose corkscrew curls of pale auburn hair that escaped from her barrette, and was letting his gaze drift appreciatively down from there when the Professor spoke again. "Doctor Waters is a telepath." Logan stopped his eye's descent and shot Xavier a glance.

"Well. Thanks for the warning." A long standing rebellious streak made him look anyway. When his focus had drifted back up to her face, he saw a small smile quirk her lips. "You going to be teaching here, Doc?"

"I prefer Ariel, please. Charles is just giving me a hard time."

Logan frowned. "You really a professor or no?"

"Oh, I have the degrees for the title, fear not." She smiled at him again, and he felt a curious warmth inside. "No harm will come to your charges, Mr. Logan."

"Ha. My charges. His charges. And it's just 'Logan'… Ariel."

She nodded. "Actually, Logan, the Professor called me in to talk to you. Sometimes I'm able to help with memory problems."

"Right. He calls you in to help with the problem children."

She laughed quietly, a warm embrace of a sound. "Well, to tell you the truth, I do normally work with younger students. But I think I'm up for the challenge if you are." The laughter went back into hiding behind her smile, and Logan found himself giving her a lopsided grin. Shaking his head, he turned back toward the door, trying to get a handle on the conflicting stream of feelings that were running through him.

"I don't know, Professor. You know I ... well…"

Professor Xavier nodded his head. "I've told her some of your history, as we've discovered it, Logan, but I believe it's up to you if you choose to share the rest." Logan looked back at the Professor and their eyes locked. He nodded, slowly, and Xavier continued. "Ariel. Because of his background, Logan has what you might call 'trust issues'."

Ariel's expression became more serious and she stepped to Logan's side. "Listen. I understand." He looked into her eyes and pulled back. Seeing his reaction, she took a step back herself and folded her hands. "Some ground rules. One. I never come in without permission. Even if we've been working together for hours, I'm not going to walk in without an invitation. Two. If you don't feel you can trust me, I'll know. I'm a bit of an empath. If we try to work together and it just isn't happening, no guilt, no worries, just thank you for your time and a handshake. Got it?"

Logan stared at her for a few seconds, the silence filling the office. He lifted his hand and scratched at his beard with his thumb, then turned to Xavier. "You really think this will help?"

Ariel's eyebrows lifted behind him. She could feel the trust that Logan had for the Professor without even trying. It was so different from anything else he projected to the world that it surprised her. Perhaps Charles was right, and there was more to this man than met the eye.

Not that her eyes were complaining. Ariel mentally shook herself, straightened up and took a deep breath. The oldest students she worked with could still think of her, at a youthful 32, as a 'big sister'. This would be a different kind of project altogether. She strongly doubted that she had a chance of being the 'big sister' to Wolverine, especially since Charles had hinted at his age. She blinked rapidly as she realized her eyes were traveling down the back of his muscular form in almost the same way he had looked her over, and her feelings were quietly echoing his. She heard Xavier clear his throat, and looked up at him with a faint blush.

_Do be careful, Ariel._

_ I'm a professional, Charles. _

He paused, a gentle hint of a smile._ You know I trust you_.

She looked into his eyes and felt her calm returning, along with her sense of humor. _I hope I can trust me, too. You'll keep an eye on us?_

_If there seems to be a need._

Logan looked back and forth between them, and his fists tightened. "What's going on?"

"Sorry, Logan. Dr. Waters and I have known each other for so long that we drop into wordless communication without even trying. I do apologize for our rudeness."

Waters was emphatically nodding agreement. "So do I. That was a terrible breach of etiquette."

"Look, I just want to know if it was about me."

The woman looked resigned but somewhat amused at herself. "No, it was about me." She took a deep breath and plunged on. "The Professor noticed me looking at you. He was worried that I might not be able to be objectively helpful." Xavier's head turned and he looked down at the floor with a sigh.

Ariel… this might not be the best time for your famed honesty.

_ I can't begin with a lie, if I ever want him to trust me. _

Logan blinked, his eyes widening in surprise as he listened to what she had said aloud.

"…looking at me?"

"Yes. You're a very attractive man. Your body is well kept, and you have a raw sensuality that is heightened by your animalistic mutant traits."

He stared, his jaw hanging, then snorted and shook his head. "You know, I was complimented for a minute there, but now I sound like some kind of science experiment."

"Oh, it was most definitely a compliment. But I apologize if you feel it was out of line."

Ariel kept direct eye contact with him as he stared at her. She could see his nostrils flare slightly, and mentally patted herself on the back. Her instincts were correct. At this distance, the Wolverine could smell a lie, whether he consciously realized it or not.

"Well…" he paused, stretching his neck. "No harm, no foul." His expression slowly faded back to a reluctant calm. "And… thanks."

"Thank you, Logan."

He nodded as they shook hands again. This time he didn't let go. "So when do we start?"

She smiled warmly, squeezing his hand. "I think we just did."


	2. Session

Bobby turned, watching Logan and Dr. Waters talking animatedly as they refilled their coffee mugs. Well, he amended, at least as animated as Wolverine ever gets outside of a fight. They both erupted in deep laughter and walked back to her office. He shook his head. "Weird."

"What's weird?" Rogue was correcting his physics paper on the big kitchen table and hadn't looked up when the two came and went. Bobby turned to grin at her. He must be doing something right if she didn't even notice Logan in the room.

She smiled back at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking, and letting him think it. Logan was her best friend, her family. She talked to him everyday. But Bobby, well… he was something else again. He never looked at her like a little sister. He looked at her like… like he wanted to see her with her gloves off. She fought back a giggle and her smile grew warmer as they looked into each other's eyes.

His grin faded when he thought about how hurt she might be if she knew how much time Logan and the new counselor were spending together, but - he thought she still should know. Someone should tell her. Quietly cursing his honor system, he cleared his throat.

"You know, um, it looks like Waters might be able to do something for Logan. I mean, they seem to be able to talk… ah… you know?"

The young woman looked out toward the hallway. "I hope she does."

"Ah…Rogue?"

"Yes?"

"I think the Prof has him see her everyday."

"Yeah, I think so." She turned a page and crossed something out with her pencil. "I see her twice a week myself right now, you know, and I'm nowhere near as messed up as he is."

"Yeah… but they seem kind of… close." He tapped his fingers nervously on the tabletop. She put the pencil down and laid a gloved hand over his.

"She makes him happy, Bobby. He's got a friend. And someone he can talk to who can help him make sense of himself. I don't think he even knows how happy that makes him. How much more… I don't know. Peaceful."

"And you're okay with that?"

She smiled and leaned closer. "Now why wouldn't I want him to be as happy as I am?" Brushing her lips against his, she fluttered her lashes coyly and returned to his paper. "Now this section here, this makes absolutely no sense. And it's thermodynamics. I mean, if anyone is going to get thermodynamics right…" He stared at her profile for a long moment before a smile crept onto his face and he blinked back to the paper on the table.

Logan sank down into the overstuffed leather couch and sipped his coffee. Ariel sat to his right in the matching leather chair. He shifted and made squeaky noises in the leather until she looked at him. "Honestly, Logan. The kids don't even do that after the first visit!"

"Some kids are more difficult than others." He chuckled and sipped again. "So has he got you talking to anyone else?"

"Besides you and Rogue? A few people have mysteriously appeared at the door, which is fine. Scott came in for a while. He just wanted to talk about Jean, but he didn't know that until we got started." A frown furrowed her brow. "He's not a very happy man."

"Never has been, from what I can see. Got a stick up his…" He looked at her as she peered at him over the frames of her reading glasses. "Alright. He seems a little… tense most of the time. And if it's not in the rule book, he doesn't want to hear it."

"Yes, most men are so much easier to deal with…"

"Aren't we though." His expression grew thoughtful. "Hey… is Rogue doing okay?"

"Rogue is my shining star. You know she wrote her folks."

"Yeah, she told me. Ariel?"

She looked up from her coffee. "Yes?"

"You'd tell me if she … well… needed anything, right?"

She tilted her head and him and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "I think you and the Professor are the closest she has to family here. But I also think that you probably hear most things I do. Maybe before I do." Her voice went professional for a moment. "She's adjusting beautifully, I don't think you have to worry." Logan grinned as she wrote something down in her book. He knew already that she wouldn't discuss details of anyone else's business with him, just like she wouldn't discuss his. That fact made him more comfortable with her.

"So what happens today?" She looked up from her writing and grinned at him. Once, she had made the mistake of asking what he wanted to happen that day. His response caught her somewhat off guard. Once.

"Well, we've covered your time here… we've discussed the traveling time…"

He growled quietly. "Yeah." She watched as his expression grew more stoic.

"I suppose I'm still curious about the fighting."

He shrugged. "Money."

"Yes, you said… but that doesn't exactly make sense, does it?" She put the notebook on the small oak table next to her chair and crossed her legs. "With your strength, you could have done any odd jobs around. Why the fighting?"

"It was easy." She watched him tense, and knew for certain that this topic was not done. "Besides." Here it comes, she thought. "I felt like hitting people."

"Make them suffer?"

"Yeah."

"As much as you were suffering?"

He barked a laugh. "Don't make it sound so noble. I just wanted to punish the world."

"Did you." He turned and looked at her, frowning.

"You trying to get at something, Doc?"

She took a deep breath, and put her mug and pen down next to the notebook. "I think, Logan, that this might be a good time for you to show me your memories. Of that time, anyway. I'd like to see them."

"Show them to you?"

"Yes."

He bristled. "I don't know. The professor has already tried to read my mind…"

She smiled calmly. "It's not me reading your mind. It's you reading your mind, and sharing it with me." He frowned again. "Listen, you can think of it like … hang on…" She tilted her head to the side and looked at him thoughtfully. "You know your mind is like a big storage system, right?"

He looked more puzzled than before. "Yeah. I've heard that."

"Yes, but can you imagine it?"

"Imagine what, the inside of my head as a big computer?" He laughed derisively. "I don't think so."

"Hmm. Alright, we do this from the beginning. Do you mind if I sit next to you?"

"You're the doctor."

She smiled as she stood and moved to sit next to him on the couch. "It's easier if we're touching. May I take your hand?" He shrugged, looked annoyed, and held out his hand like a dead fish. She couldn't help grinning as she took it, resting their hands on the cushion between them. "You know, some of the kids find this relaxing. You might be pleasantly surprised."

He stared at her, shrugged again, and looked away. She marveled that all of the earlier friendliness they had established had been dropped. Defensive behavior. If he was any child, she would know that he was scared to death. Nodding to herself, she took a deep breath. "Okay. I need you to relax." She felt his hand tense immediately, and concern furrowed her brow. "What was that?"

"Sorry. It's just… well. Jean said that when…" He seemed, for a moment, to be less in control than normal. And hurting. Then it vanished without a trace. "Let's just do this, okay?"

Ariel reached over and touched his cheek, turning his face to look at her. "I'm sorry, Logan, for that loss." He met her eyes reluctantly. "Would you like to talk about Jean?"

"No. There's nothing to talk about. You can't lose something you never had." The force of his statement seemed to startle him more than it did her. He looked away, almost apologetic. "Not now, anyway."

She nodded, looked down at their hands. "If you ever want to, just say the word." He acknowledged her with a barely perceptible nod. "Alright, then. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath, and let your muscles… melt."

"Melt?" Their eyes met and she did her best to look stern.

"I said close your eyes, young man. Don't be a difficult child." She watched as he grinned in spite of himself, and felt him beginning to relax. "Good. Now. I want you to picture a room. A nice, comfortable room. One that feels safe. Can you do that?"

Logan almost opened his eyes to look around her office, but took a breath and controlled himself. "Yeah. Got it." For a moment he felt a strange disorientation, then looked around the room he was suddenly in. The room in his imagination was very similar to Ariel's office, but had huge windows like the Professor's had, looking out over a peaceful landscape. "Wow." Some part of him realized that his imagination must have been being helped along by one incidentally attractive doctor.

"Good. Now put a chair in it, if there isn't one, and sit down. Make yourself comfortable." She watched as a slight frown crossed his face, followed by a childlike smile. "Are you sitting?"

"Yeah."

"What's it like?"

He smirked again. "Well, the cushions make these squeaky noises…" She chuckled quietly.

"And?"

"And I feel okay."

"Okay?"

"Warm. Comfortable." He paused. "Safe."

"That's wonderful, Logan. Now, look around. There should be a box. Can you see it? What does it look like?"

"Yeah… there's an old wood crate over on that table… maybe an old ammunition box." She nodded, feeling him drift farther into the trance-like state.

"Alright, that's good. Now. I have a request."

"Yeah?"

"Can I join you?"

He frowned, eyes still closed, and she held her breath. This was the toughest part, the first time. If he broke concentration now…

"Join me? How?"

"You just tell me if it's okay, and I'll come over. Is it?"

He frowned again, then shrugged. "Sure."


	3. A Meeting of Minds

            Logan looked up from where he sat and saw Ariel standing in the middle of the room.  "Is this still my imagination?"

            "Yes.  I'm just visiting.  I see only what you want me to."  She looked around and smiled.  "What a lovely place you've made here."

            "Can I really make it anything I want?"

            "Yes."  

            He closed his eyes for a few seconds and opened them again.  His expression was a kind of delighted surprise as he looked past her.  Ariel turned around and giggled.  "Wow."  The back wall of the office now was no wall at all, but opened into a deep forest.  There didn't seem to be a problem with that.  "Nice place to wander off when you need a walk?"

            "Yeah, well. I'm not a big indoor person."  He looked a little puzzled.  "Now what?"

            "Now it gets interesting."

            His eyebrow raised at her.  "Really.  Like making believe I'm in a room that suddenly feels absolutely real and then having someone show up in it that I didn't imagine isn't… interesting."  

            She laughed quietly.  "You know, it really is much easier for the children.  They pretend all the time.  We really should keep in practice."

            "So where is this place, really?"

            "Oh, Logan.  Don't make me start in about quantum physics and perceived realities.  Let's just move on, and I'll recommend some books when we go back, okay?"  Her smile was warm, and he nodded.

            "So?"  He motioned with his head toward the box.  "What's in there?"

            "Memories."  

            "You're kidding."

            "Nope.  Not all of them, they certainly wouldn't fit.  But there's something in there, some memory of when you were traveling from town to town fighting, that you could show me that would explain why you were doing it.  Do you want to look?"

            "I _told you why I was doing it."_

            "Yes, yes you did."  She continued to smile at him gently, obviously not backing down.

            "What will it look like?"

            "That's what you have to tell me."

            "I don't know, Ariel…"

            She leaned back against a desk and sighed.  "Listen, Logan, it could be anything.  Papers.  Tapes.  Flowers.  DVD's.  Whatever works for you."  She considered for a long moment, and continued.  "Okay.  For example.  There was a little girl who had a terrible time in her first few years… and when she looked in the box in her mind – which was a big oak toy box, by the way – it was full of bubbles."

            "Bubbles?"

            "Yes.  She opened the box and they floated out into the room.  Quite beautiful.  Until she broke one open, and all the mud and slime oozed out onto the floor."

            "What?"

            Ariel sighed.  "She'd been abused, Logan.  Physically.  She dressed up her memories in these pretty iridescent shells."  She took off her reading glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.  "It was difficult.  For a couple years, very difficult."

            "Hell, why didn't you just leave the kid with her bubbles?  At least she was happy."

            Ariel felt herself tensing and took a deep breath.  "She wasn't exactly happy.  She had a part of a life, and a big box of fake life… you can't build on a foundation of bubbles."  

            Logan stared at her, then got up and moved to look out the window.  He stood there as his breath fogged against the glass, shook his head.  "I don't know, Ariel.  Sometimes I think-"  He stopped, rested his forehead against the glass.  "Did she have any happy memories?"

            "Oh, a few.  Those bubbles didn't break when they were pushed.  She could open them up, look inside, and put them back together again." She shook her head.  "They even still floated."  

            He looked concerned when he turned.  "Is she okay now?"

            The counselor smiled.  "Yes, Logan, she turned out alright, in the long run.  It wasn't all easy, but I think she's going to be fine.  The Professor helped her quite a bit."

            Logan walked back to where she was standing and stopped in front of her.  "When she got rid of all the bad stuff, what did she do with the bubbles that were left?"

            Ariel laughed lightly, looked out the window and back to his eyes.  "Oh, I keep them.  The box is a rather fancy looking antique trunk, now."

            "_You kept them?"_

            "Yes, well, they're mine."

             She stepped away from the desk, leaving him staring after her in mild shock.  "So.  Shall we see what's in the box?"

            "Ariel, I-"

            "It's alright, Logan.  Part of the whole process is learning how to separate the past from the present."  He frowned, started to move closer to her and stopped, his fists clenching and unclenching.

             She waited for him to adjust.  After a moment, she said, "Now let's see if we can get this open."

            "Yeah.  You know, if you don't want to right now…"

            She turned a schoolteacher look on him.  "Young man, if you're stalling…"  Their eyes met, and he shrugged with a resigned grin.

            "You're the boss."

            "Yes, I am.  Now.  What's in the box?"  She took a few steps away from the table.

            He frowned at the worn wood.  "I think it's a file."  

            "Really?"

            "Yeah…"  He pulled at the lid and it popped off in his hands.  Reaching inside, he took out an ordinary manila file folder and stared at it.  Looking at her incredulously, he flipped it open and shook his head.  "Hey, it's got pictures, too."

            "Excellent, Logan.  May I see?"  She waited where she was until he wandered over, reading as he came.  

            "Yeah, sure.  I mean, there's nothing in here I haven't told you.  It's the last time I fought, at the bar where Rogue hitched a lift."  He turned it around and placed it in her hands.  "Have a ball.  But remember, it's not pretty."

            "And this will make it clear why you fought?"

            "I told you –"

            "Logan.  Will showing me this memory explain to me why you chose to fight?"  He stopped, opened his mouth, shut it again, and frowned thoughtfully.  

            "Yeah."  He turned away to walk back to the sofa, and stretched out on it when he did, his hands behind his head.  "I've got nothing to hide."

            She smiled softly, and walked back to sit in the chair that looked suspiciously like the one from her office.  "According to what you told me, you were at that bar fighting for a week."

            "Yeah."  He yawned and closed his eyes, but the toe of his shoe kept tapping in the air.

            Ariel watched him for a few moments, knowing that he was avoiding on a very deep level.  As was often the case, she felt a little hesitant herself about just what she was getting into.  Taking a breath, she looked down at the page.  And laughed.  Logan's eyes opened suspiciously.  

            "What?"

            She handed the folder to him as he sat up.  "I'm afraid you're going to have to read it to me.  I can't make any of this out."

            "Wha-at?"  He stared at the page and back up at her.  "It's typed.  Why can't you read it?"

            Ariel sat down on the couch next to him.  "I have to assume it's because you don't want me to."

            He tried to stare her down, but it was punching the wind.   He looked back at the paper.  "You're telling me that you can't read this."  She nodded.  "This is ridiculous."

            She left the statement hanging in the air for quite some time.  Then she said, quietly, "Would you like to stop now?"

            He growled something under his breath and flipped through the papers in the folder.  "Look, here it is, see_?  'He'd put down a hundred bucks. The truck was acting up, and between that and what I'd made the night before, I'd be able to get the radiator fixed.'  See, I told you."_

            "It's very good, Logan.  Keep going."

_            "Although the car wouldn't be a problem anymore if I had my way.   I knew this guy was big, and I just stood there while he gave me his best shots.  I went down to my knees and he went for my kidneys… For a minute I let myself believe that this could be it.   I was tired, I was desperate, and I was hoping that someone would finally, …'_"  Logan stopped, still staring at the page.  

            Ariel's voice was a bare whisper.  "What do you remember, Logan?"

            "'_I was hoping… That someone would finally be able to kill me off.  To get it over with.  To get me out of this hell that I'm living.  I don't know why I should expect that kind of mercy.'."  He looked up from the file to her face.  "I… I didn't know that.  I swear to you Ariel, I didn't know…"_

            "It's okay.  Really.  Sometimes it's easiest to lie to ourselves.  Let's put this away and go back to my office."

            "But –"

            "Don't worry."  She put a hand on his arm reassuringly.  "We'll talk about it."

            His eyes were wide, more angry, more frightened than before.  He whispered hoarsely.  "I didn't know."  

            "Logan."

            "I …"

            Ariel's voice took on a firmer tone.  "Logan.  Stop.  Now.  Look at me."

            As he turned to face her, she took his head in her hands and closed her eyes.  "Go back."

            They opened their eyes, sitting in her office on the couch, their hands clasped between them.  Logan blinked, looked around nervously, and shook his head.  "That was the strangest thing I've ever…"

            She tilted her head at him and smiled.  "I wouldn't go there if I were you." 

            "But-"

            "Look.  Just think of it as… a dream.  A really detailed dream.  You've had those, haven't you?"

            The shocked expression on his face faded to an annoyed grimace.  "Yeah, I get detailed dreams alright.  I just can't remember-"   He stopped, stared down at his hands that were holding an imaginary file folder.  Then he slowly closed his fists and turned them to look at his knuckles.  "I want to go back."

            "Back?"

            "You know what I mean!"  He grabbed her hand again.  "I want to be able to read it all over, the whole thing, I want to know-"

            "Logan."  There was something about her voice that stopped him dead.  "It's not time yet."

            "You've got to be kidding.  We just did it!  It was easy!"

            She put her other hand on top of his and brushed her thumb across it.  "It was easy because that was a pretty obvious memory.  I'm the one with years of training, remember?  If I say it's not time, then let's take it slow."

            "And what if I don't want to wait?"  He pulled his hands away, the words growling out of him.  Lunging to his feet, he walked over to her desk and pounded his fist against it.  "What if I want to do it now?  What if I just do it myself?"

            "Logan, you have to believe that-"

            "No!  I don't have to believe anything!"  He clenched his fists and watched the blades slide out of his hands.  "I need to know!"  He turned quickly and punched the wall, his fist stopping only when flesh hit plaster.

             It became very quiet in the office.  When he turned around to look at her, Ariel was sitting quietly, watching him, her hands folded in her lap.

            "I think we're done for today." 

            There was a slow whispering metallic sound as his claws retracted.  "Look, Doc, I'm – I –"

            "Thank you, Logan."  She stood, picked up her notebook and walked over to her desk, sitting behind it.  "Same time tomorrow, please."

            He walked to the door angrily and opened it, stopped, looked back at her.  "Ariel?"

            She looked up from where she had started writing.  "Yes?"  He stared into her eyes, now a green as cool as the sea.   Shaking his head, he left.  

            Dr. Waters stared at the door for a few moments, until she was quite sure he wasn't coming back.  Her gaze drifted to the wall, where three slashes cut white lines into the pale lavender blue of the paint.  Then she took a deep breath, and the tears finally came. She sent out across the mansion, broadband and loud enough to startle any telepath on the campus.  _Charles.  May I have a word with you?_


	4. Second Thoughts and Second Chances

            "And I don't know if I can handle it."

            Professor Xavier looked thoughtfully at his former student.  "Ariel, if you feel any reluctance about continuing with Logan, I understand.  I know he can be…" he smiled a faint smile.  "Difficult."

            "No, I've dealt with difficult.  I've dealt with difficult and dangerous and angry.  I mean, come on, Charles!  My specialty is adolescent mutant psychology, for pete's sake.  Difficult and dangerous and angry is what I do."

            He rolled his chair closer to where she stood.  "Then what is it, Ariel?"

            She closed her eyes, her hand on her forehead.  

            _He's so vulnerable.  _

_            Yes.  He's been in a fragile state since he got here.  Probably long before that.  I think he may be stronger than he appears, though._

_            But he trusts me now.  He thinks I can make it all better… and Charles, I don't know that I can.   I don't want him to be hurt any more than he already is.  He could be in emotional agony for Lord knows how long if I get it wrong…_

            "Ariel," he said aloud, taking her hand.  "I have great confidence in your abilities.  Rest assured that I knew exactly what I was asking when I called you."  She turned and looked at him, a little fearful.  "I called in the best."  She blinked a few times, the tears returning.  

            "Can I ask you a question, Professor?"

            He smiled warmly at her, his blue eyes sparkling.  "Of course."

            "Why don't you work with him?"

            Xavier sighed and gave her hand a squeeze.  "I've tried.  Frankly, Ariel, he needs a gentler touch than I'm capable of mentally.  With your skills, you can get him to show his memories to you, so that he sees them himself.  I can only go and root them out."

            She dabbed the tissue in her other hand against her face and laughed.  "Oh, so you call me in for the one you can't handle?  Right."

            He looked at her quite seriously.  "Right."

            A knock on the door was followed almost immediately by it opening.  Familiar dark waves of hair peeked around the corner, hazel-green eyes peering nervously inside.  "Oh.  Ah.  Hi, Professor."

            "Logan."  Xavier tried to reach for the controls of his chair, but Ariel was hanging on to his hand like it was a life preserver.  She didn't turn to look at Logan, and didn't see him hold up his hand for the Professor to stay where he was.  

            "Prof, I'd like you to stay.  I don't want her to be frightened of me… any more than she already is."

            Charles raised his eyebrows, but nodded.  Logan looked back to Ariel.

            "Dr. Waters, can I talk to you?"

            "Tomorrow, Logan.  We have an appointment then."  She managed to keep her voice from shaking, but she held the Professor's hand more tightly.  

            "Right.  Can I just say one thing, then?"

            She wiped her eyes, looked at Charles and took a deep breath.

            _If I start crying hysterically, tell him I sprained my ankle or something, okay?_

            His smile reflected back to her, and she pulled herself together, turning to face the door.  "Yes, Logan?  What is it?"

            He looked nervously at her, at the Professor, and glanced at the wall he'd damaged.  "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."  He slipped through the doorway and walked slowly over to her, clearly afraid of frightening her.  "Here."  Pulling his other hand from behind his back, he held out a field bouquet of tiny blue flowers.  "Maybe now that I know what to expect from myself during these sessions, I can be a little more… ah…"  He rolled his eyes.  "Gentlemanly."

            She reached out and took them, their hands touching for a moment.  She looked deeply into his troubled eyes.  "Thank you."   Inhaling the sweet musky fragrance of the flowers, she relaxed a little.  "Where did you get these?"

            "Ah, by the stream out back.  Rogue showed me where they were."

            "Rogue?"

            "Yeah… I told her that I, well," he glanced back at the wall, "… needed some flowers fast."  He looked vaguely embarrassed.  

            "Do you know what these are, Logan?"

            "No.  Are they bad?"

            She shook her head as her self assurance slowly returned.  Maybe she could make this work after all.  He was more resilient than she thought.  Sad, damaged… but not half as fragile as she had feared.  "Not bad.  Not bad at all."  She walked over to the shelves near her desk, picked up a small alabaster vase and filled it with water from the cooler.  Placing the flowers in it, she turned back to face him.  "Actually, they're one of my favorite things.  They're called 'forget-me-nots'."

            Logan looked back toward the door, and shook his head.  "That kid has a weird sense of humor." 

            Ariel put the vase carefully on her desk.  "It's important to me that you know something."  

            He looked like he might bolt at any moment, but nodded.  "Go ahead."

            She walked up to him and put her hand on his cheek.  "I'm not afraid of you."  Her eyes were serious as she turned back to her desk and sat down.  

            "Ariel, I –"  He stopped, shook his head.  "You know I wouldn't blame you."

            "I know.  And that's why you know that I'm telling the truth."

            He stared at her, then nodded slowly.  Looking toward the Professor, his demeanor became more his usual.  "I'll fix the wall, Prof.  And, ah, the one outside, too."  

            The Professor's eyebrows raised slightly at that, but he smiled.  "Thank you, Logan."  Charles knew the maintenance people could do it, but the Wolverine was radiating repentance.  It would do him good to 'make it better'.  "I appreciate that."

            "And, Doc-"

            "We'll talk about things tomorrow.  Don't forget our appointment."  Her expression blossomed into a full smile, and she moved the flowers closer to her notebook before she opened it.

            Relief seemed to flood the room when she smiled, and Logan ducked his head to both of them.  "Okay.  Good.  See you tomorrow then."  He smiled an almost boyish grin, and left as quickly as he came.

            _Oh, Charles.    She looked at the tiny, fragrant flowers, touched them gently with her fingertips.   _Is it going to be this interesting the whole time?__

_            I shouldn't be surprised.  _"You can't say I didn't warn you, Ariel."  She laughed ruefully, holding her head in her hands.

            "I most certainly can.  Thank you for being here."

            "Anytime."  The Professor looked thoughtful as he headed for the door. 

            "Professor?"  He turned to see her.  "Professor… he really is stronger than I thought, isn't he."  

            "As I said, Ariel… I think there's more to him than we've imagined."  The door opened for him and he rolled out into the hall.  "And I have a strange feeling."

            "Yes?"

            "That it might be easier for you to think of him as a friend rather than a patient."

            "I don't know, Charles.  Ethics and all."

            "Ariel.  If there's ever been an unusual situation for ethics, this would be it."

            "I suppose."  She ran her fingers over her hair and looked uneasy.  "Charles?"

            "Yes."

            "Am I…"  She didn't finish, and the Professor smiled.

            "I think you might be, my dear.  Be careful." 


	5. Art Deco

            Ariel frowned and looked at her watch as her long hair, down for a change, fell loosely around her face.  It was ten minutes before her next appointment, but she could feel someone standing out there.  With a light nudge of her mind she figured out who it was.  She shook her head and chuckled.  Getting up from her desk and tiptoeing to the door, she opened it quickly, catching the man behind it by surprise.  His eyes were wide as he looked at her amused expression.

            "You know, you could just knock if you're early."

            "I didn't want to disturb you if you were, you know, talking to someone."  He blustered a little in his surprise and embarrassment.  "Just trying to be…"

            "Gentlemanly?"  She grinned and put her hand on his arm.  "Actually, that's what _that is for."  She pointed to the little name plate next to her door, which had a sliding panel to cover 'in' or 'out'.   She slid the panel to 'out' with her index finger, and dramatically pulled him into the office.  "You see?  Now anyone who walks up knows I'm talking to someone."_

            She watched his expression as it became more difficult for him not to laugh.  "I suppose the kids catch on to that one quick."

            "Oh, yes.  I only have one person who just walks in _as_ he knocks."  

            He looked down, laughed quietly.  "Hey, at least he knocked."  She giggled at that, and he looked back into her eyes.  "Ah, about yesterday…"  Ariel patted his cheek.  

            "I thought we settled that yesterday."

            "Well… I just wanted to say-"

            "Logan."  She frowned for a moment, as if she was getting a strange feeling from him.  Something he needed to say, something he needed to hear.  "Oh."  She stepped back, folded her arms.  "Go ahead."

            He looked at her seriously, sighed, and closed the distance between them.  "I'm sorry."    

            She looked at him, and said, very formally and sincerely, "I forgive you."  Something seemed to release in his shoulders, and he nodded.  

            "Thanks." 

            Ariel nodded thoughtfully.  He really seemed to need the words.  "Now.  Would you do something for me?  I know it's a bit personal, so if you don't want to I understand."

            He looked like he was getting whiplash from the change in direction the conversation was taking.  "Ah… just tell me what it is, first."  He frowned a bit nervously, but then some inner male made a joke and he leered at her, dropping into the flirtation game he used when he was uneasy.  "I mean, I'm not terribly upset if you require my services…"  She rolled her eyes.  

            "You're incorrigible.  And rather goofy."  Picking up her reading glasses from the corner of her desk, she said, "What I'd really like is to see your claws.  If it doesn't hurt too much."

            When her eyes met his again, she was shocked.  There was something there she couldn't quite identify, and if it was pain, she couldn't tell.  "It's just that yesterday was the first time I saw them on you, and I was curious-"  She stopped.  "Logan?  If you don't want to…"  The eye contact never wavered.  

            "Okay.  If that's what you want."  _Back to being the freak show.__  So much for her thinking of me as a normal man, a friend…or anything else besides the Wolverine…   He crossed his wrists in front of his chest and clenched his fists.  Slowly, with a metallic whisper, nine inches of razor sharp metal pierced through his knuckles.  He watched for her reaction, knowing the fear and shock that usually accompanied the display._

            She looked fascinated.  "My word.  They're beautiful."  

            He blinked.  "They're what?"

            "Very elegant."  She smiled up at him, and he shook his head.  "Clean lines.  Almost… hmm… almost art deco.  Of course, that's probably because of the three motif.  Very popular with deco, threes."  She was turning her head to look at them from different angles, and he felt the confusion spilling out onto his face.  "You'd think they would have blood on them, wouldn't you?"  This wasn't what he was expecting.  Lifting her hand towards his, she stopped and looked him in the eye.  "May I?"

            He dropped his hands, still a bit shocked, so that she could examine them more closely.  Her fingers were gentle and warm as they slid over the backs of his hands, down the blades.  "Careful.  They're sharp."  

            "Yes, I can see that."  She moved her fingers back along the sides of the blades, touching them delicately.  "And they were originally bone?  But treated, like the rest of your skeleton?"  

            "Yeah."

            "But they were still this sharp?"

            "I guess.  I don't remember too much…"

            "Of course."  She shook her head and smiled.  "What am I thinking."  Turning his hands over, she brushed the fingers of his fist.  "Do you have to keep your fists clenched?"

            "Only if I don't want it to hurt more than it does."

            "I'm sorry.  I don't want you to-"

            "No, it's okay.  It's when they first come through that I really feel it."

            "Oh."  His fists had relaxed enough for her to slip her smaller hand inside one of his.  She squeezed it gently and slowly pulled her hands away.  "Thank you.  I was curious.  I appreciate your openness."

            "It's alright."  He watched her as she watched the blades retract, the skin closing almost immediately.

            "Beautiful."  She brushed her hand over his now smooth knuckles, smiled at him again, and pushed her long ringlets back over her shoulder.  "Shall we begin?"

            His nostrils flared, as he watched her.  "It's not an act, is it."

            She moved over to the leather chair where she normally sat and tilted her head at him.  For a moment she looked confused, as if she had missed something.  "An act?"

            "You really do think…"  He shook his head, walked over to the couch and sat down.  "Nevermind."

            She sat down, thoughtful, and opened her notebook.  "I'd like to know, if you're willing to say."

            His face told of an internal discussion, and he finally shrugged.  "You really aren't afraid of – them."

            She smiled, back on track.  "That would be like asking if you were afraid of my…" she paused, looked down at herself, considering, and smirking at the first choice that sprang to mind.  "Of  my… ah, feet.  They're a part of you.  No, I'm not afraid of 'them', Logan."

            "Or… me."


	6. Role Models

            Ariel looked at him with such sincere warmth that he looked away, and she thought she saw a slight flush on his face.  _Time to give him an escape route.  She feigned a little laugh.  "No, Logan.  I'm not.  Would you _like_ me to be afraid of you?"  Her eyes sparkled mischievously and she made a little inquisitive purring noise at him, waiting for him to catch up to the teasing._

            "No."  He blinked, and did a double take at her.  "Well," he said, dropping back into the game _he_ normally began, "maybe later."  His smile slowly turned from a joke to something quite sincere, and he exhaled as if he'd been holding his breath for some time.  "So we're okay."

            "We're fine.  But I owe you this… the reason I was so upset yesterday was because I was afraid I might not help you, I might just make it worse."

            "Ariel, I -"

            "But," she said, cutting him off, "I talked with the Professor, and I've had some time to meditate on it."  She tapped her fingertips on the oak table absently.  "You're not a child.  If you choose to work with me on this, it's because you really want to."

            He looked off towards her desk, and his eyes caught the vase of tiny blue flowers.  "Yeah.  I want to try."

            She smiled.  "I think, though, that it may be easier to do as friends."

            "Friends?  You don't think of us as…"

            "I do think of us as friends, and that's a bit of trouble for me with the ethics board," she said, tapping her head.  "Are you comfortable thinking of me as a friend with good insight rather than a counselor?"

            He stared at her for a few moments, then snorted and looked away.  "Gee, I always hoped that was what a friend was.  Someone with good insight who you could talk to, that could give you good counsel.  Of course, I haven't had many friends, so I could be wrong."

            Ariel looked at the flowers on her desk and shook her head.  "Why do I have this feeling that you never saw me as a 'counselor' anyway?"

            "Maybe because I have deep seated trouble with authority figures and refused to see you as one because I knew you could help me?"  He stroked his chin in a good impersonation of the Thinker.  That made her laugh out loud, and she extended her hand.  They shook solemnly on it.

            "Alright.  Now, about the memory you shared yesterday."   She watched him carefully.  This moment would tell her a lot.   He shifted uneasily on the couch, then looked straight at her.

            "I thought it was…unnerving."

            "Unnerving?"

            "Yeah.  To find out that there's things I believe about myself that aren't quite true."  He gave her half a grin.  "And I almost lost my nerve.  Or I got on someone's nerves.  Or …"   She grinned back at him.  

            "Fine.  Unnerved it is."  She opened her notebook on the small table and wrote something down.  "I suppose the important thing is; do you still feel that way?"

            "Unnerved?"

            Ariel looked at him seriously.  "No, Logan.  Do you still wish you were dead?"

            There was a long silence while he stared at the floor.  She waited.  He looked up, stared at the wall for a while, and she saw his eyes glance toward the flowers on the desk.  He took a deep breath.  "No."  Frowning, he looked into her eyes.  "Why does that surprise me?"  

            "Could be that you've never felt as comfortable as you do here."

            "Maybe.  But I'll always be the …"  He trailed off, shaking his head.

            "The what, Logan?"

            "I don't know.  The weird one.  The scary one."  Making claws of his fingers, he gave an exaggerated growl.  "The one people can't quite trust."  Dropping his hands, he sighed, and she felt a pang in her heart.  She smiled softly as he focused down at the backs of his hands.  

            "Logan, can I ask you a question?"

            "Just did.  But go ahead."

            "Who do you suppose the most respected, admired person in this house is?"

            "Easy.  The Professor."

            "Why?"

            "He's earned it.  He takes care of people. He's got the power, but he only uses what he has to.  He's put himself on the line for the rest of us.  He …cares."

            She nodded, and he glanced back at her as she jotted down notes, wondering where she was going with this.  "And who would be next, on the most respected list?"

            "You doing research or something?"

            "In a way.  Humor me."

            "Okay."  His eyes grew thoughtful, then darkened.  "I would have said Jean… but now… I don't know.  Scott?"

            "Why Scott?"

            "He's the leader, after the Prof."

            "So everyone respects him…"

            "Well… I wouldn't say everyone."  He grimaced at her.  "But he does his job.  I can't hold that against him."

            "Hmmm."

            "What?"

            "And as for admiration?"

            "Well… I don't know.  I wouldn't say people exactly _admire_ Scott.  Storm gets more of that."

            "I see that, especially with the young women here.  She's an excellent role model.  But I'm curious."

            "About?"

            "Do you see where you fit in here?"

            He frowned at her.  "Where I fit?  I'm part of the team."

            "Yes.  But I don't know if you realize, Logan.  After the Professor, _you're the most respected and admired adult here."_

            "Yeah, right."

            "Logan…"  She stopped, shook her head.  "Alright.  Let's move on to something else."

            "Wait a minute.  Why would _I be on that list."_

            She smiled, put on her reading glasses, and looked at her notes.  "You've earned it.  You take care of people. You've got the power, but only use it when you have to.  You've put yourself on the line for the rest of them.  You care."  She looked back over her glasses at him, and waited to see how he would respond.  He looked painfully contemplative.

            "Ariel."

            "Yes?"

            "I…"  

            She took off her glasses again, and gave him a gentle smile .  "Go ahead."

            "I don't see any way around that.  But I don't quite believe it …yet.  And I don't know if I want that kind of responsibility.  But I seem to have taken it already…"

            Ariel's sigh caught his attention.  "That's good, Logan.  I'm impressed."

            "Glad _you are.  You just don't like letting me sleep, do you."  He grimaced at her, and stretched out on the couch.  "Cripe."_

            "Still having trouble sleeping?"

            "Eh.  The nightmares still happen.  I thought that once I knew more, they'd be better.  Now they're just more… confusing."

            "Would you like to try to look at something closer to that time?"

            His eyes popped open.  "You kidding?  I thought you said it wasn't time yet."

            She nodded.  "I know.  But you're showing a lot of … poise.  I believe I can leave it more up to you than I thought.  There are other things we should certainly discuss, but when you feel ready to go back to that time, let me know."  She patted his foot that was on the arm of the couch near her, and he stared at her.  

            "Maybe later."  

            She smiled broadly at him.  "Alright, your call."

            "So… what _do_ we discuss today?"

            She leaned over slightly and looked more serious.  "Your intimacy issues."

            He sat up abruptly.  "I beg your pardon?"

            "You seem to approach women that you know are unavailable…  Jean would be a good example.  Certainly Mystique picked up on that.  And you tend to use innuendo in large amounts whenever you get nervous, which is a lovely way to distance yourself."

            He frowned at her.  "You sure I can't change my mind about doing the memory thing now?"

            Ariel laughed and nodded.  "Your call."


	7. Movie Night

            Many thanks to those who took the time to read and review a newbie!  I'm really enjoying this.   Kitty, I'm writing as fast as I can… hee…  As far as romance goes… well… I hate to rush things… J

_______________________________________________________________________

            The mansion was as quiet as it was going to get in the evening.  All the kids who were known to be able to sleep were in bed, and Ariel and Logan sat on an overstuffed sofa, waiting for a tape to rewind.  

            "So tell me again what this evening is supposed to be."  Logan took a long pull from his beer bottle and stared at the screen.

            Ariel Waters, her titles left in the office, sighed.  "It's supposed to be two people - coincidentally, a man and a woman - watching a movie together.  Without being anything else."  She shook her head and sipped her beer.  "Just… friendly.  Can you handle that?"

            "Yeah, I just don't see what it's supposed to prove."  He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, hopped up and began fiddling with the adjustments on the large home theatre system that the Professor had installed for classes.  She smiled at his back as the FBI warnings went by silently.

            "And you're _not_ saying…."

            "I'm not _not_ saying anything.  I just don't think that you're right."

            "Ah.  So you're completely comfortable right now.  As long as you don't have to sit here next to me socially."

            "Look, Ariel, I'm- you wouldn't catch me saying for a minute that I don't have trouble getting along with a lot of people-"

            "And hopefully, if you did say that, it would be with slightly better sentence structure-"

            "But I don't think I have any trouble specifically with women."

            "Ah, he says it at last."

            "What?"

            "Nothing.  Just finish avoi- _fiddling_ and get back here."  He turned, frowned into her grin, and walked back to the sofa she was sitting on.  

            "So what are we watching, anyway?"

            "Hush.  It's one of my favorites."  She picked up the remote and began to fast forward through the previews. 

            "A chick-flick, eh?"

            She turned a cool green stare on him.  "Do I strike you as a particularly chick-flick type?"

            He shrugged.  "You're a chick, aren't you?"  The stare intensified until he broke and laughed.  "Okay, okay, so you're not a chick.  You're a …"  He stopped, looked away and scratched his beard, considering.

            "I'm a what?"

            He looked back at her, still thinking.  "You're a… hmh.  Lady?  Woman?"

            Ariel hit the pause button and did a slow pan down to her clearly feminine chest and back.  "You sound unsure."

            He shook his head and looked away again.  "No.  I'm sure."  She couldn't tell if there was a grin hiding there or not.  "But you chi-… uh… women are known to get sensitive about what you get called."  

            "You could ask."

            Logan shrugged.  "Okay.  Fine.  What do you like to be called?"

            She grinned mischievously.   "I like 'Ariel', myself."

            "Funny.  What phrasing, Doc- ah, _Ms. Waters, would you prefer your gender to be represented by?"  Her eyes widened as her eyebrows shot up.  _

            "Why, Logan, that was quite good."  She smirked a bit as he rolled his eyes.  "I like 'woman', although 'lady' is fine when it's said respectfully."  She smiled.  "Now be quiet and pass the popcorn."

            He mumbled something and picked up the bowl that was on the floor.  

            "What?"

            "I said," he said grumpily, "you _women_ are crazy."  He frowned at the screen as the camera panned across beautiful pastoral landscapes.  Titles appeared.  "You're kidding."

            "Why?"

            "Shakespeare?"

            "And what is wrong with Shakespeare?"

            "Nothing.  I mean, maybe it's not a chick-flick, but Shakespeare is just so boring-"  He leaned forward abruptly and his jaw dropped as the people onscreen began taking off all their clothes and leaping into baths.  "What the –"    He looked at her briefly, trying to look at and away from the screen simultaneously.  "What is this?"

            "'Much Ado About Nothing'.   I think you might like it."

            "I don't know… it's kind of…"

            "It hasn't started yet."

            "You call that not starting?"

            "You call that being comfortable with intimacy?"  She blinked at him innocently.

            "I don't think watching…ah…"

            "Go ahead."

            "What?"

            "Go ahead, I dare you to call Shakespeare 'porn'"

            He stared at her as she continued to blink innocently.  After a moment, his jaw twitched, and it was only a few seconds before they both laughed.  "Okay, okay.  You win.  I'll be a good boy."  He glared theatrically.  "But I do _not have intimacy issues.  I am _not_ afraid of women."_

            "Ooh, _afraid of women.  I never thought of that.  What an interesting concept."_

            He stopped, the beer halfway to his lips, and shot her a look out of the corner of his eye.  "You know, I could just go out for beer instead."

            "Just try to relax, for heaven's sake.  We're both adults, there's nothing here to make you nervous or embarrassed."  

            "Right.  Did you look at _her_?"

            "Hell, no, I was too busy looking at _him_."  She chuckled and sipped her beer.

            Logan finally sat back and they settled into companionable silence, only broken by the crunching of popcorn and the occasional explanation of Shakespearean phrasing on Ariel's part.  In the theatre-like ambience of the big room, they found themselves naturally moving closer together so they could speak more quietly.  By the time the movie was over, Ariel had her legs tucked up under her and was leaning against his arm.

            She grabbed the remote as the credits rolled.  "So?  What did you think?"

            "It was pretty good.  I'm surprised."

            "Well, good."  She got up and stretched, yawning.  He didn't stir from where he sat.  "Logan?  What's up?"

            "I'm not tired."  

            She looked at him, fondly and a little sadly.  "Not tired, or afraid to try to sleep?"  

            He turned away, and she watched him make a conscious effort to be open.  "A little of both.  Got any more of that?  Maybe a little less soupy?"

            "What, more Shakespeare?"  She laughed, and stopped when she saw that he was quite serious.  "Well…" she wandered over to the shelves and poked around.  "Ooh, Henry V.  Also Branagh, and on dvd to boot.  Want to watch it?"  He shrugged.  "It's got fighting…"  She wiggled the box from the dvd as if it were a box of candy.

            "Beats fighting with my pillow.  And I hear this Shakespeare guy was more than a one hit wonder."  

            "He certainly gave it his best effort."

            By the time the movie was half over, Ariel was nodding, her head leaning on his shoulder.  He shifted, dropping his arm around her, and she rested her head more easily on his chest.  A few scenes later, Logan asked her what the prince had just said, and got no response.  He nudged her, looked down, and realized that she was sound asleep.  His smile almost became a laugh, but he kept quiet so as not to disturb her.  

            With an uncharacteristically gentle gesture, he pushed her hair back out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.  As he leaned over, he smelled the soft perfume of her hair, and his lips brushed against her head as he rested there, relaxed.  He blinked once or twice at the movie, his eyes opening more slowly each time.  Suddenly they jerked open, his expression hard.  He looked at the sleeping woman next to him and his jaw tightened.

            "Right."   He stood with grave determination, easing Ariel carefully down on the couch and covering her with a blanket from the shelves near the big screen.  He shut down the system, cleaned up their snacks, and stood for a long moment beside the couch, watching her breathe.  Brushing his hand softly over her hair, he whispered.  "I guess you win."  He walked in the dark to the door and opened it, looking back over his shoulder.  "But you don't know why."

            Closing the door softly behind him, he walked out into the hallway, down to the main garage, and kept walking, out into the cool night air.  "Damn."

            It was four AM according to the pale turquoise readout on the entertainment system when Ariel shifted, her eyes fluttering open.  She stretched, a confused expression on her face as her mind tried to place where she was.  Suddenly reality clicked.  She sat bolt upright, stared at the clock, and looked around the dark room.  Her mind, without even trying, reached out for another presence, and found none.  "Well, Dr. Waters, there's a surprise."  She swung her legs off the couch and saw a glass of water had been left where her beer bottle had been.  Taking a sip, she smiled ruefully.  "Damn."


	8. Duncan

            Late in a rainy afternoon, two weeks later, Ariel thought back on 'movie night' with a resigned sigh.  Logan had managed to avoid her for a day or two, and was off on assignment with most of the team for five more.  By the time he got back, his walls had built up nicely, and he was able to cancel appointments to her face.  They managed to have two sessions in that week, but they were pretty useless, she had to admit.  He was doing what he had to do, she supposed.  It had to be better than what she had to do right now.

            A soft knock on the door was an unrequired politeness.  Her mind knew who was there.  "Come in."  The door opened slowly, and Professor Charles Xavier rolled in, managing to make a simple wheelchair look like a throne.   "Thank you for coming by so quickly."

            He smiled and waved a hand dismissively.  "Anytime.  Your message sounded important, Ariel.  What did you need to see me about?"  He moved closer to her desk and looked attentively at her.  She didn't worry about things casually, and anything social they could have dealt with from a distance. 

            She sat back down at her desk and sighed.  "I'm concerned about Duncan."  

            The Professor nodded.  "Ah, our young metamorph.  He's been distant in class lately.  Distracted."

            She nodded and opened a file on her desk.  "He's really depressed.  Age fifteen isn't easy for anyone, but with his background..."  Ariel sighed as she turned a page, looking down her notes.  "You know about his parents."

            "That they thought they could cure him by being strict?"  The Professor's blue eyes shone like ice.  "Of course, having his power manifest at such a young age is unique in itself.  He was six, wasn't he?"

            "Yes."  She continued paging through.  "Here it is.  We were talking just an hour ago, and he brought up, again, how he thinks it would be easier to be dead.  He mentioned a few ways he wouldn't mind dying."  Their eyes met for a long moment.

            "Do you think he's a real danger to himself?  Or any of the other students?"

            "Well, he's never been outwardly focused.  I believe he won't try to hurt anyone else.  But Charles…" she took off her reading glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose.  "I am sincerely concerned about his wellbeing.  I think he's considering giving up before he ever has a chance to fully become what he will be."  Taking a deep breath, she put the glasses back on and looked at the notes again.  "I called you in because I don't know how you deal with this kind of situation here.  Do you have a protocol?"

            It was Professor Xavier's turn to sigh.  "We have had depressed students in the past, rarely suicidal, although I suppose we've simply been fortunate in that regard.  Ariel, I'll take my cue from you, here.  What do you recommend?"

            She sat back in her chair and tossed the pen she was holding onto her desk.  "Meds are tricky, they never react quite the same way with the mutant physiology…but I've had success with a couple.  We'll let the other teachers know, and I'll tell Duncan that we're very concerned about his peace of mind.  We don't leave him alone."  She absently picked up a barrette and pulled back her hair.  "If we can get him through a couple days, it's possible that he'll lose some of this downward momentum."  Taking the pen again, she began jotting notes.  "I'll talk to him now, and if you could inform the teachers?" 

            "Of course."

            "And I'll get him on antidepressants right away."  Ariel shook her head and sighed.  "I wish there was something concrete I could do.  This feels so shaky."

            "If you and I specifically 'keep an eye' on him –"  The Professor suddenly frowned.  "Ariel.  Is he supposed to be in the school now?"   She looked at him, mirrored his frown, and jumped up from her desk.  

            "Damn."

            The adult team came running into the garage at the Professor's telepathic call.   Scott was there first, followed by Logan and Storm.  Ariel met them at the door.  "It's Duncan.  We think he may be in trouble."

            "If someone's after him, they'll have a hard time getting past us."  Logan growled quietly.

            "No, it's not that.  I'm afraid he may try to hurt himself."  

            Scott shook his head slowly.  "Duncan?  Oh, no…"  Abruptly his voice became businesslike.  "Ariel, Logan, we'll start on the grounds.  Storm, take the Prof out in a car, see if he can find him.  The fields by the stream are pretty open, let's start there and fan out into the woods.  When's the last time anyone saw him?"

            "Rogue said he wasn't in class yesterday because he wasn't feeling well and was going to bed."  Storm slapped her palm against the car in front of her.  "I should have checked."

            "No, he was at my session today, not two hours ago.  You didn't know, Storm.  Let's just get looking."  

            Twenty minutes later it was Ariel that found him, lying on his back near the water, a few pills still clutched in his hand.  Storm drove up next, the Professor having heard her call of distress, and found her sitting near him, stroking his hair as tears ran silently down her cheeks.  

            _Ariel.__  You couldn't have stopped him.  You know better than I do, if someone is determined -_

            _But I should have been able to at least give him hope.    Her eyes, darker than usual, looked over at the Professor coldly.  _

            Logan and Scott ran up and took in the scene.  Logan turned, hit a tree violently, and remained there, his back to them.  Scott stopped dead, bowed his head for a moment.  

            _I don't seem to be able to do much good at all right now.  Not where it really matters.   _

            _Ariel -  it was as if a door slammed._

            With a last stroke across the boy's hair, she stood up and wiped her hands across her face.  "Goodbye, Duncan.  I hope you've found the peace you were searching for."  She inhaled a shaky breath.  "And I'm sorry I couldn't help you find it here."  

            Scott moved forward and lifted the boy carefully as Ariel walked deliberately toward the woods.  Logan looked in her direction, and heard a calm voice in his head.  _Let her go, __Logan__.  She needs time.   He hesitated, looked over at the Professor for a moment, and moved to help Scott._


	9. Revelations

            Again, multitudinous thanks to those who read and review.  

___________________________________________________

            Ariel was standing at the file cabinet sorting papers when she heard a knock on the door and tried to ignore it.  Officially, she wasn't in yet, and it seemed she would never get this filing done…_all I need is another fifteen minutes to myself.  She felt she had to get things organized for whoever tried to make sense of them next.  __Maybe if things had worked out here, if I'd been able to help the Professor with… she exhaled heavily._

            Duncan's parents had claimed his body the week before, but she still felt …fragile.  She had still been seeing her regular rotation of kids, but most of the sessions had been about the boy.  Why.  How.  What now.  It was difficult to stay poised, especially when all she wanted to do was run, hand in a resignation.  Sometimes it was just too hard to be the grown-up.  She sighed and leaned her head against the cool metal of the cabinet when the knock sounded again.  The door opened.

            "Ariel?"

            She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath.  "Yes, Logan.  What can I do for you?"  Turning around, she saw him standing there, hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking like he'd rather be somewhere else as well.  

            "I'm fine.  You don't have to check up on me."  She smiled a brittle smile, put a file in the drawer and slid it closed.

            "Hey, between assignments and … well, everything, I haven't been in here in over a week.  I'd hardly call that 'checking up'."  His expression was still hard, but his eyes were concerned.  "And I'm sorry for that.  You okay?  Really?"

            "Yes.  Fine."  She looked away from him before her eyes started watering again.  

            "I wondered, because, well… you haven't been bugging me about a session lately."

            Her gaze dropped to the rug and she crossed her arms over her chest.  

            "I mean, I know you've been busy with the kids..."

            "Yes, well, clearly, we weren't getting anywhere.  I'll leave the notes for my successor, if you think it will be of any help."  

            "You're leaving?  Why?"

            "You should understand that more than anyone, Logan.  I don't want to do any more damage here."

            He stepped closer, his voice quiet.  "You didn't do any damage with me.  As far as I can see you didn't do any with Duncan, either.  What the hell are you talking about?"

            "Fine.  I didn't make it worse.  I also didn't make anything better."  Ariel pushed back her hair and picked up her reading glasses, turning them in her hands.  "All I've done is given you another woman to be uncomfortable around.  Nothing new.  I think it would be better to move on."  

            Logan's fists clenched and unclenched.  "The Prof wants you to leave?  And don't try to tell me he doesn't know."

            "Professor Xavier understands."  She didn't add, 'although he doesn't want me to leave.'  In fact, it was only because the Professor told her she was needed at the school for damage control that she hadn't forgone the two weeks notice.  Three more days.  She could stand three more days.  And he promised her he would have a replacement, if she still wanted to leave.

            Logan paced toward the door, frustrated, and then back, ending up even closer to her.  "Ariel.  Look.  I… feel responsible."

            Her eyes widened in surprise.  "Responsible for Duncan?  Why?"

            "No.  Not him."  He reached over to her, and in a gesture that was typically hers, brushed her cheek.  "You."   Her eyes welled up, but she sniffed and straightened up.  

            "I certainly don't blame _you_, Logan.  I just don't seem to be able to help you.  And as for me…  I'm not your responsibility."

            He frowned.  "And I was just a responsibility?  That's it?"  She could feel him ready to storm out and fighting it.  She marveled as she felt him find his way back to calm without showing so much as a blink.  Maybe some things had changed, without her even realizing it.  "I don't believe that.  We've become… friends."

            "Yes.  But my profession makes it difficult to just be friends, Logan.  Even though Charles thought I'd do the most good with you that way."   She thought back to that day and frowned.  "But maybe that's not quite what you need, either."  She looked up at Logan thoughtfully, then shook her head.  Logan's fists were tight as Ariel moved around behind her desk.  "I'm sorry, Logan.  I hope the next counselor will be able to do more for you."

            "Right.  The one that will magically appear, who will be better at dealing with me than the Professor.  Or you."  He snorted a laugh.  "And you think _I've got issues."_

            "Don't try to deflect this onto me."

            "I don't have to try!  At least six kids out there are happier, healthier now because of you, and those are just the ones that I know personally.  At least!   And that's not counting the adults on the team, either, and I _know_ they've been in here, because we talked about you on the last mission."  He braced his arms on the desk, leaning on his knuckles.  She wondered, tangentially, what would happen to the wood if he extended his claws.  "One kid who wouldn't be helped.  One very sad, very unique case."  Her eyes snapped up to meet his.  There was a feeling he projected there, an identification that she had never thought of.  "And because of that, everyone else suffers."

            "Logan-"

            "No.  Forget it.  But before you go there's something I want to show you."  He rapped his fist on the desk defiantly and turned away to sit on the leather sofa.

            She stared for a moment, then shook her head.  "Logan, you don't have to show me a memory to prove anything to me about Duncan, or about my work-"

            He looked up at her, an unreadable expression on his face.  Then he began to laugh.   It wasn't a happy sound.  "Sorry, Doc, this isn't about you.  It's about me.  Me and Duncan.  Oh, yeah.  And intimacy issues."

            Dr. Waters suddenly felt the unsteady footing of a difficult session.  Ariel thanked whoever might be listening that the professional was still inside her, ready to work.  She spoke in a calm voice that surprised her.  "Were you and Duncan close?"

            He laughed again.  "No.  I hardly knew him."  The false smile disappeared.  "But who did?"

            Ariel came around the desk and leaned against it.  "So you feel like you can identify with him."

            "You think?  The loner who has power, but can't feel comfortable inside his own skin?  The one who feels so alone it eats him up at night, until he's just lying there trying to figure out how the hell to get out?"  His volume had risen as he spoke, and now he sat, breathing heavily, his face in his hands.   Ariel moved to the sofa and sat down near him, waiting until he spoke again, almost in a whisper.  "You were right about me having trouble relaxing around women.  But you don't know why.  I'd like to show you."

            "Are you sure?"

            He pulled his hands off his face and cracked his knuckles, staring at the floor.  "Yeah."

            She touched his shoulder, and he turned to look at her.  "Can I ask why?  I mean, why now?  These things are difficult, they can be painful.  There's no reason to rush into it..."

            He stared into her eyes, and something seemed to burn there.  "Why?"  He looked as if he was trying to memorize her face.  "Because I realized, when Duncan died, that there's something worse than being alone."  

            The emotion coming from him was so intense that Ariel felt her stomach dropping.  "And what is that, Logan?"

            He reached out, gently, and pushed her hair back over her ear.  "It's _believing you're alone, when you're not."  His hand dropped, and he stared at the floor.  "Duncan died thinking he was alone.  I don't want to end up that way.  I want to be able to accept what I'm getting here.  The people here, the team…"  he closed his eyes, struggled with the statement, almost laughed at himself.  "They care about me."_

            Ariel nodded, put her hand on his.  "That's true, Logan.  They really do."

            She watched as his eyes moved over to the repair on the wall of her office, and she felt him fighting the urge to close up again.  "But I've got some problems.  Things that make it difficult."

            She gave his hand a squeeze.  "We all have some, Logan."

            "Yeah.  But this is … different."  He turned his hand to clasp hers.  "I don't know how you'll feel about this.  About me.  I…"

            "Logan, I assure you, nothing you show me will leave this room if you don't want it to."  She smiled softly.  "And I'm still not afraid."

            "I know that.  I just don't know if you'll ever…"  He shook his head, sighed.  "Let's just do this, okay?  I need to get it done."  Ariel nodded, concerned, as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  "Okay.  Come on over.  Please."      


	10. Memory

            Things had changed again in the room of Logan's imagination.  The fourth wall still opened out into forest, but the office itself had altered.  It was a bit more sleek, more masculine, perhaps.  A full wall video screen caught her eye, and Ariel grinned in spite of herself as she looked around.  There was a broad couch in front of the screen, and she couldn't help remembering movie night.  "I see you've hired a decorator."  When she turned to look at Logan, his expression was grim.  "Okay.  No jokes.  What is it that you want to show me."

            He turned toward a console near the screen, and pushed a few buttons.  "Reading a file won't work for this one.  I'm using video now."  He picked up a small remote and handed it to her.  "This'll stop it if you don't want to see anymore."

            She stared at the remote in her hand for a few moments thoughtfully.  Then she sat down on the couch, placing the remote on the table next to her.  "Alright.  I'm ready when you are."

            He stood, staring at the ground for a while, before he shrugged and looked at her.  "This is old.  One of the first things I remember clearly-" he stopped with a sarcastic shake of his head, looked over towards the big windows. "One of the first things I remember clearly from after…"

            "After the change?"

            "Yeah."   He glanced at her briefly, gratitude flashing in his eyes for her calm.  "I know I'd been hiding out in the wild for some time… don't know how long… but I started coming into town, and doing the fighting thing, even back then.  I guess that's when the fighting habit started."

            "That's understandable."  Ariel did her best to radiate calm, but his own fears were making her uneasy.  "Do you know how many years ago?"

            He shrugged.  "Nine?"  He shook his head again.  "I'm not really sure.  Sometimes it's a blur."

            She nodded.  "Go ahead."

            "Anyway.  I remember there were …women.  Not much more than girls, really… a lot of runaways end up out there.  There's always men with money, and need."  He almost sat down next to her on the couch, then seemed to reconsider, sitting in a chair nearby instead.  "I was a pretty out of control back then.  Looking for anything to make me feel… human."

            She watched him carefully, then reached over to put her hand on his.  He pulled away, and she sighed.  "Logan, why don't you just show me."

            He nodded, almost compulsively, and stretched his neck.  "Alright."  He looked at her once more, and she couldn't tell what was going on in the hidden recesses of his mind.  She didn't dare to pry.  "Alright."

            The screen faded into an image of a young girl, with dark hair and eyes.  She was strangely familiar, yet different.  "Wait."  Logan jumped at Ariel's interruption.  

            "What?"

            "Did she really look that much like Rogue?"

            He stared at the screen, and slowly frowned.  "No.  She had lighter brown hair…a little taller… and she was a little older.  But not much."  The image on the screen slowly changed at his words, and became less Rogue-like.  She was still a young woman, clearly weathered by life, and aged well beyond her years.  

            "Okay.  Do you mind if I pause like that if I have questions, or is it too jarring?"

            He stared at the screen, shook his head.  "I don't know."

            She nodded.  "I'll try to avoid it.  Let's just go, then."  She pressed a button on the remote and the girl began to move, walking through the door of a dingy tavern.  It was smoky, crowded, and she looked over at the bar, seeming to check out the clientele.  The girl clearly spotted something and, puttting on a rather fake smile, walked toward the bar.

            Her voice was muted by the noise of the crowd, but obviously someone was listening as she spoke to the barkeep.  Someone with better than normal hearing.  "So.  Who won tonight?"  The bartender barely glanced up from the glass he was polishing, and nodded his head down the bar.  "Thanks."  She walked up to a familiar figure who was hunched over the counter, a beer and a shot in front of him, a cigar in his hand.  He looked tired.

            "I hear you're the big winner, handsome."

            His eyes didn't leave the surface of the bar.  "Oh, yeah, that's me.  The big winner."  

            She shifted her shoulder bag, impatient.  "So, you want some company after all that work, or not?"  He turned to look at her lazily, his eyes traveling up and down her body.  After a considered pause, he shrugged.  

            "Why not."  He put some money on the bar and they walked out together.

            "I'll skip ahead."  Logan pushed something and the scene faded, reappearing on a view of him rolling over in bed, closing his eyes, the young woman already asleep on her side of the bed.  She looked older somehow instead of younger as she slept, and terribly worn.  Ariel winced at the feeling she got just looking at her.

            "Do you want to stop watching?"

            She turned and looked Logan in the eye.  "What?"  Realizing that he had seen her, and thought it was a response to what he had done with the girl rather than her reaction to the girl herself, Ariel raised a hand.  "No, Logan, it's not that.  I don't fault you for taking solace where you could.  I hope you were careful."  She looked concerned for a moment.  "But I've worked with so many runaways.  So many young women who just throw themselves away, throw themselves out, before they even know who they are…"  She sighed.  "Did you know her name?"

            He looked at the floor.  "No."  

            There was something about him that made Ariel realize that this wasn't the point of the memory.  "There's more?"

            "Yeah."  He pushed a button.  "There is."

            The scene drifted into darkness, and Ariel realized she was seeing Logan dreaming.  There were metallic, scraping sounds, cries… pounding, bubbling, pouring noises that felt like they were going through her soul… and then screaming.  _Not a dream, a nightmare._  

            On the screen, she saw Wolverine fighting against a haunting series of confused images, trying to escape, breaking the bonds that held him, stabbing the men that tried to hold him back, mowing them down like grass at midsummer.  He kicked, ran, slashing, howling, flying through the corridors of the lab until he reached daylight…

            Ariel took a deep breath and blinked back the tears.  It was one thing to have the Professor describe these things to her, quite another to be sitting here, watching it with Logan's eyes, feeling from him what he felt then.  She trembled, and it took all her self control to hold her own emotions down, and try to imagine what this must be like for him to relive.

            She turned to look at him.  "Logan?"  He was looking even more tense than before, almost like he wanted to scream.  "Are you alright?"

            "Wait."

            Confused, she looked back at the screen.  The image had faded once more to Logan's face, eyes closed, sleeping fitfully as he lay on his side.  With a jerk his eyes opened, and he looked startled, confused about where he was.  Slowly he blinked, remembering, and rolled over onto his back.  A sudden memory made him look exasperated, and he raised his hand to rub his eyes.  Tipping his head lazily he looked over to where the girl was sleeping.  Ariel gasped in tandem with the Wolverine.

            Where the girl was lying, bloody and unmoving.  Wolverine leapt up out of bed and stared at the body.  The sheets that covered her were torn in strips, and he could see three stab wounds across her chest and neck, three more slashed across her abdomen.  Blood stained the bed beneath her like a giant poppy, splattered across the pillow, across her face.  

            Ariel found she was holding her breath.  The girl's eyes were still closed, as if she had never even awakened.  The attack must have been that fast.  "Oh…"

            The Wolverine on the screen stared around, panicked, and grabbed his clothes, running for the door.  He ran and ran, until the deep forests swallowed him, and the screen faded to black.  

            Logan stood, his back to Ariel, and spoke quietly.  "And that's why… why anytime I'm with a woman now, I make sure I leave before…"

            Ariel sat for a few minutes in the quiet, trying to take in what she had just seen.  "Logan?"  He didn't move.  "Can we go back to my office, now?"   


	11. Segue

Sorry it's been so long, work got crazy… many thanks to the folks that have sent me encouragement.  I think it gets a bit more… hmmm… something.  I know this is a short one, but let me know if I should go on.  Hee.

            A bare nod, and the room in Logan's mind faded.  Ariel opened her eyes, sitting on her own couch, Logan's hand in hers.  Her face was wet with tears as he pulled his hand away, standing and turning away as he had been before, in his own space.  Ariel took a breath, rose and walked to her desk, wiping her face with a tissue.  _Okay, Waters.  You can handle this.  You've seen this before_.  She nodded to herself, tried to imagine the best way through.

            "Logan."  As she walked back to the couch, she found herself slipping back into her counselor mode.  "Would you like to talk about this?"  She sat down and looked up at his back, only noticing then that his shoulders were shaking quietly.  "Oh, Logan."  Instincts that weren't entirely professional made her stand and put a hand on his back.  "It'll be alright."

            "No.  No it won't."  He jerked toward the door, and stopped with his hand on the knob.  "It will never be alright."

            She sighed.  "Maybe not.  But it can be… better."

            "No."  His surge forward was stopped by her sudden plea.

            "Please don't go."

            He stood, frozen at her words.  

            "Please, Logan."  She felt him struggling, and stepped closer.  "You don't have to keep running."

            He turned then, and looked into her eyes, green and bright with tears.  With a movement that neither one began, they fell into each other's arms, and she held him as he choked out the words through his pain and anger.  "I… that's why when Rogue… I thought I'd done it again… I thought- just when I thought I could block it out…"  

            She held him tighter, willing strength into him.  "You're not the only one who's gone through this, Logan."  He pulled back slowly.  

            "What are you talking about?  How could anyone else?"

            She shook her head, her hands on his forearms.  "What happened was horrible.  But the condition you're dealing with is post-traumatic stress syndrome."  She drew him with her over to the couch and they sat down.  "It happens a great deal in the military."

            "I doubt that anyone has done… that."

            She cleared her throat.  "I had a military client who was ordered to clear a village during a raid… he shot a woman who wouldn't back down.  As if that didn't haunt him enough, it wasn't until she fell that he saw the child behind her, who had been shot as well."  Logan winced.  "And he knew what he was doing when he did it."

            "Yeah.  But he was following orders.  He has…"

            "An excuse?  After everything you've been through?"  

            "It's not the same."

            "You didn't decide to go kill someone."  He pulled back again, but she held onto his arms.  "You didn't.  It was an accident, Logan.  A terrible, terrible accident."  She ran her hand over his hair.  

            "I don't know how you can even look at me."

            "It's not that hard."

            "I feel so… trapped by this."

            "Logan, you've been in this state for so long, it's amazing you're sane at all."

            He tried to give her a dirty look.  "'At all'.  Gee, thanks."

            Ariel gave him a little smile and brushed her hand against his cheek.  "Well, that's not bad.  For you.  But really, this is something we can work on."   He looked into her eyes, and she felt the pressure of connection.  "Logan?"

            For a moment he leaned toward her, his gaze searching hers.  Then he pulled back, shook his head.  "I gotta go."  He was halfway to the door when he felt her hand on his arm, pulling him to face her.  "Ariel, I –"

            In her heeled boots she was nearly his height.  Her hand slipped behind his head, pulling his face closer to hers.  "I'm still not afraid."  

            The despair that burned in his expression poured out into his voice.  "How?"

            She looked into his eyes.  "I'm not afraid.  And you know I'm telling the truth."  Her other hand smoothed over his cheek, and she pressed her lips gently against his.  "Trust me."

            He didn't put up much of a fight.  When they separated, he shook his head.  "I can't.  I can't risk hurting you."

            "You won't."

            "You don't know that."  He stared at her, frowned.  "How could you?"

            She tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and grinned.  "Let's just say that I think I know another reason the Professor called me in."  


	12. Double Feature

            "We don't have to do this."

            Logan gave Ariel a glare from the door of the home theatre room.  "Right."

            "I'm serious, Logan."  Her expression softened as she watched his eyes, his control issues fighting with his trust issues.  "Really."

            He stepped into the room as if it were the testing chamber, tense, his voice taut as a drumhead.  "Look, if the professor needs me for this… I hardly feel like I can refuse."

            A voice behind him made them both look at the door.  "While I would certainly appreciate your help, Logan, there's no debt to be paid."  The Wolverine and Professor X stared at each other, a solid if complex connection.  "It's entirely up to you."  He turned his head to smile gently at Ariel.  "Both of you."

            Logan looked back toward Ariel.  "And you think you'll be able to learn something?"

            Ariel smiled nevously.  "I don't know.  I haven't worked on expanding my abilities in years.  I'm hoping that I'll learn something."  She shook her head and sighed.  "I have to admit I'm a little worried."

            "Yeah, you and me both."

            The professor moved smoothly into the space between them.  "When Ariel and I first began discussing her dream therapy ideas two years ago, we weren't sure quite how to proceed.  Your recurring nightmares and obvious closeness to her make this a logical choice."

            "Logical.  Right.  You know the story, Prof.  If something happens –"  The expression on Logan's face was shock, then anger, as he realized he couldn't move.  Five seconds was all it lasted, then the Professor released his mental hold.  "What the hell was that for?"

            "To make it clear. Logan, I won't let anything happen to either of you.  That's why I'm here to observe and monitor this… experiment."  He looked at the big screen and sighed.  "However, I don't think you'll mind if I read rather than watch."

            Ariel walked over to the bank of movies.  "So.  You just want us to watch movies?"

            "I believe it's a good place to start."

            She looked back at the professor and frowned suspiciously.  "There's something you're not saying, Charles."

            "Yes.  Thank goodness."

            Logan rolled his eyes. 

            "Alright.  Anything but a chick flick."

            "Haven't we had this discussion already?"

            "I simply can't stress it strongly enough."  Logan looked at her indignant expression, and slowly broke into a grin.  "Fine.  What do you have in mind?"

            She went back to perusing the titles.  "Oh, I haven't seen this in years.  _Seven Samurai_."  She looked back at Logan, expecting him to be annoyed, or at least curious.

            "Okay, sounds good."

            She narrowed her eyes.  "It's in Japanese."

            "Yeah."

            "With subtitles."

            "Yeah."

            "And it's three and a half hours lo-"

            "It's also classic Kurosawa."  

            Ariel's jaw dropped.  Logan took the opportunity to look smug.  

            "I've seen it before. It's good.  Nice fight work."

            The psychologist looked over at the Professor, who was grinning quietly.           "At your leisure, Ariel."  She shrugged, sighed, and put the DVD in the player before plopping down somewhat defeatedly on the couch.  

            "So let's watch some movies."  Logan sat down near her and shook his head.  

            "I don't see how this will work."

            "Me either.  But I should ask now if it's okay for me to come in at some point."  He nodded.  "Oh.  And we should be holding hands."  He raised an eyebrow at her and she laughed out loud.  "Alright, so maybe I should have let that happen a bit more naturally."

            He shook his head and threw a look back toward the professor.  "And I'm the one with intimacy issues."

            The professor had been updating student records on a computer in an office across the hall during the first movie, coming back to the entertainment room halfway through _Ghostbusters_.   He noticed that Ariel and Logan were sitting together on the couch closer and more comfortably than when he had left, her head resting easily on his shoulder.  Taking a breath and closing his eyes, the Professor made a delicate suggestion, one that wouldn't register consciously.  Within minutes, Logan's head shifted back against the couch.  Charles heard a comfortable sigh, turned off the television, and waited patiently.  In about half an hour, he saw signs of REM sleep in Wolverine, and began monitoring more closely as Logan began to dream.

            It was _that dream again.  Logan thrashed sideways, trying to free himself from the restraints.  Faces blurred above him as he pushed himself up, splashing, punching out at someone who was trying to hold him back.  With a convulsive leap, he was standing, screaming out as he pulled tubes and wires free from his flesh, skin tearing and beginning to heal almost immediately.  He clawed his way free, turned and stopped dead._

            "Logan!"  Ariel was standing in the lab, a little breathless, her eyes wide.  She was wearing a black turtleneck and jeans, and a leather jacket.  "Over here."  She frowned for a moment, then pointed at a man who was heading toward the Wolverine with a needle in his hand.  As she pointed at him, he froze in place.   She laughed ferociously, and rapidly stopped everyone in the lab, simply by pointing at them.

            "How the hell…"  Logan turned, confusion battling with pain and fury in his eyes.  "You're not supposed to be here.  You can't be here."

            "You said I could come in."

            "Yeah, but this really happened!"

            She stepped closer to him slowly, cautiously, as if he were a wild animal cornered there.  Logan was so agitated from the adrenaline rush of his escape that he was trembling, his muscles fighting his mind.  "Listen to me, Logan.  Do you know who I am?"

            His sleek, muscled form was highlighted by the bluish glow of the emergency lights, still glistening with water.  Ariel kept her eyes locked with his as he frowned at her, his breathing deep and ragged.  "Ariel.  You're Ariel."  She watched his body slowly relax.  "What the hell is going on."

            "You're dreaming."

            "But this didn't happen!"

            "Logan, dreams are dreams.  This may be based on your memories, but it's still your imagination… look at the ceiling, for example."  He looked up, still frowning.  The ceiling was low, ridiculously low for a lab.  "You see?  You feel trapped here, so the room is smaller.  That's your imagination, not a real memory."

            Slowly he nodded.  "But that doesn't mean it didn't really happen."

            "Of course not.  But that was long ago.  You have a choice now, Logan.  You can remember it the way it really was, think about it, go over it a million times if you want to.  You can spend the rest of your life reliving this horror."

            He stared at her.  "Why would I do that?  I don't try to think about it.  I try _not_ to think about it."  His fists clenched, and she noticed for the first time that his claws were still out.  "I can't help it if it I keep dreaming about it."

            "Alright.  Maybe you can't help it right now.  Not yet.  But you don't have to keep doing it the same way."  She stepped closer, put her hand gently on his arm, trying not to react as he flinched.  "It did happen.  You were tortured, horribly, in a room very like this one."  She looked around slowly.  "But this is a dream.  This is your imagination.  And here, you have a choice." 

            Logan followed her gaze as she looked around.  A look of sudden comprehension flashed in his eyes as they narrowed, looking at the men who had held him captive.   He looked back at the ceiling.  "You mean like –"  

            Suddenly the ceiling was gone, and the stars shone like diamonds on velvet overhead.  The dank, burned, chemical smell of the lab was stirred with a fresh breeze.  

            Ariel smiled at him.  "Yes, Logan.  Yes.  Like that."

            He looked at the men in the lab again and an evil laugh escaped.  "Anything."

            She seemed to get a hint of some thought, and stepped back.  "Just be careful."

            "This could get a little messy."  He stared hard at the man behind the lab table, who was still frozen like a still from a movie.  The man's body seemed to glow, and abruptly vanished in a burst of blue-white flame.  "Or maybe not."  One by one the men around them burst into flame and disappeared, like pine needles in a campfire.  The lab, slowly, began to melt.  Logan laughed and grabbed Ariel's hand.  "Let's get out of here."  

            They ran, laughing, down the spillway and out into the majestic Canadian forest.  They ran until they were out of breath and found themselves in a grassy clearing.  Stopping, Logan turned and caught Ariel in his arms, holding her close.  

            It was then that she really noticed, for the first time, that he was completely naked.  His body was warm against her, and his excitement undeniable.  "Logan-"

            "So this is my dream."

            "Right."

            "And I can do anything."

            She tried to look serious, but failed miserably.  "Logan, I can leave whenever I want to."   Her eyes smiled warmly into his.  

            "But I only see what you want me to see, just like you.  Right?"

            She frowned, amused, and shook her head.  "I'm getting worried, I almost understood that."   

            "Ariel.  This is important to me.  I need to know-"  He paused, exhaled.  "That I can't hurt you."

            The warmth of her smile touched him.  "No. You can't do anything to me that I don't want to happen."  

            "That's what I thought."  His hands moved to the sides of her face, his dark eyes catching the starlight as he looked into her.  "Thank you."  He lowered his lips to hers in a gentle kiss, and stopped.  "Wait a minute."  Catching his thought, she looked startled, then laughed.  

            _Professor?___

_            Leaving.  Goodnight, children._

            They felt the professor's monitoring withdraw, although they hadn't really been aware of him before that moment.  As if someone had lifted a soft, warm blanket that simply wasn't needed anymore.  

            Logan shook his head and looked into her eyes again.  She rested her hands around his waist, and this time, she initiated the kiss.  

            Twenty seconds into it, although she hadn't shifted, he realized that she was no longer wearing the leather jacket.  A moment after that, she was wearing no more than he was.  Their bodies reacted to the sudden contact, and he pulled away to look into her eyes again, to make sure he was reading her correctly.  Ariel giggled.

            "See?  You're not the only one with a good imagination."

            ______________________________________________

**I believe this is the closing chapter of this little adventure…  it was great fun to write, and perhaps Ariel will tell me another story sometime.  **

**Many and multitudinous thanks to the reviewers!  God love the people who know we writers need a pat on the back and a kick in the behind…  Keep reading, keep writing.**


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